


Trashy Teen Movie, But With Incest

by KlingyKlaus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teen Movie, Crossdressing, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Rating May Change, Sibling Incest, Tags May Change, Unrequited Love, this is self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 21:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19710028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlingyKlaus/pseuds/KlingyKlaus
Summary: Diego Diaz agrees to take Ben Reymen to a school dance, with a few stipulations.Realizing how lucrative it is, he starts up a business where people can hire him to be their fake date. He also sets his eye on someone, and to make them jealous, he fake dates Ben. Ben has his own reasons for agreeing to the arrangement.No one expected to catch feelings, but it happened.





	Trashy Teen Movie, But With Incest

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to say I’m sorry to my readers for not responding to comments lately. I’ve been in a weird place and haven’t had the energy. I hope to get responses out soon. 
> 
> Thanks to the lovely werelocked for beating this first chapter. 
> 
> It is a High School AU, but everyone is 17-18. Which is over the age of consent pretty much everywhere, and legal where I live. 
> 
> This is 100% a _The Perfect Date_ AU, but with incest. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> P.S. A fic isn’t a KlingyKlaus fic if there isn’t liberal use of italics and hyphenated words.

Diego was baring his heart and soul to the woman in front of him, via college essay, and she was giving him what was possibly the singular most unimpressed look he had ever seen on someone’s face. 

She held up a hand, halting his words. “That’s enough, Mr. Diaz.”

“Well, actually there are about four more pages.” He let the last word trail off as he flipped through the remaining pages in demonstration. 

The woman nodded with a purse to her mouth that made her look like she was sucking lemons. “Yes, I know. But I’ve heard quite enough.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Diego sighed. “You hate it. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this, and you hate it. You hate me.” Diego knew he was being dramatic, but he  _ really _ needed a nearly perfect essay to score a spot and a reasonable scholarship.

“No, Mr. Diaz, I do not hate  _ you _ . Nor do I hate your essay. But it is missing…” She took off her glasses and stared at him pointedly. “It’s missing  _ feeling _ . Despite the fact that you have put your quote-unquote “Blood, sweat, and tears” into this essay, you have not put any feeling into it. It isn’t unique. I know nothing about Diego Diaz as a person. What he does, and the things that drive him. From your essay, the only thing I know is that you are trying very hard to impress. There is none of  _ you _ in it. It’s rote, and it’s practiced. Quite frankly, it screams ‘cookie cutter college student’. You need something that broadcasts who you are as a person, and what you have to offer that no one else does. Let Bill Gates be Bill Gates. Just be Diego Diaz.”

Diego couldn’t do anything but nod, aggressively tossing his essay in the trash on his way out. It was shit anyways, clearly. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have it saved to his hard drive at home.

  
  
That afternoon, as he was leaving the house for work, his mom stopped him. “Hey, sweetheart. I’ve made a casserole, if you have time to eat before you go?” 

The way she made it a question, like she expected the answer to be no, made Diego feel slightly guilty about his response. But not guilty enough to stay. “Sorry mom, shift starts soon. I’ll heat some up when I get home.”

Grace’s radiant smile fell some, and Diego felt a pang, but they both ignored the obvious tension. “Alright, well, be safe dear.” She made to turn back to what she was doing, but snapped her fingers as if she’d remembered something. “You met with the counselor today. How did that go?”

Diego mulled over what he wanted to say to his mother, hands restlessly clenching against the fabric of his bookbag straps. “Yeah, she told me Yale was competitive. Can you believe that?” He let a bit of sarcasm slip into his tone. “I never would have guessed.”

He should have seen the well-aimed swat coming, knowing his mother as well as he did, but he was still surprised when she caught him on the thigh with a spatula. “Diego Diaz, that woman is only trying to help you. Don’t sulk about it.”

Diego would be upset, if she weren’t completely correct. He was sulking, and the counselor was only trying to help. He groaned exaggeratedly and made his way to the front door. “ _ Ugh _ ! I hate it when you’re right.” and then he was out the door, the widest grin splitting his face.

For a moment, their financial problems were forgotten. For just a second, Diego could believe he was just like any other kid trying to get into an ivy league school, and that he didn’t desperately need a scholarship to even have a chance at attending. For a snag in time, Diego could see a brighter future for himself and his mother. 

At the start of Diego’s sandwich shop shift, there was a rush. That after work, not quite dinner, rush where they got a lot of people. It was a diverse rush hour, because of where the store was situated in the town. They got people in business suits with sharp, clipped words, as well as people in coveralls or jumpsuits who sometimes spoke languages Diego couldn’t comprehend, but that Vanya followed with no problem.

But the shop had hit its pre-dinner lull and Diego was leaned up against a counter, watching Vanya do inventory while he tried to write a whole new college application essay. 

“Yasha,” He said, trying to catch the petite girl’s attention. 

“What,  _ DiDi _ ,” She sniped back.

Vanya was quiet, and she was small, which made her a target among the people at her school. It would probably surprise the people at school, as it had initially surprised him, that she was so catty and sarcastic. But that was one of the many reasons Vanya was his best friend. 

“You should write this essay for me. We could call it a ‘collaborative experiment’.”

“Or,” she tossed over her shoulder, now wiping down the counters. “You could write it yourself. As one is intended to do with a college application.”

Diego threw his head back and groaned in mock anguish. “What are  _ you _ writing your essay about?”

She turned to look at him, hip cocked where it was supporting her weight against the counter and cleaning rag thrown over her shoulder. “ _ I _ am writing my essay on the struggle of finding a personal identity, being the youngest of 7, with very strict expectations of my future. And I’m writing it all in comic sans.”

“That’s actually… really cool Vans. Except for the part where you’re using the world’s worst font.”

His response was a quirked eyebrow, and then they both spoke in unison when he realized his mistake. “Wingdings,” they said with a slight disgusted shudder. Why did that font even exist?

Shaking himself from his Wingdings-induced horror, Diego asked Vanya if she’d like to hear what he had written of his essay so far. At her nod of assent, Diego cleared his throat and began reading. “My name is Diego Diaz.”

Vanya waited a handful of seconds, and when it was clear Diego wasn’t going to keep talking, she gave an elegant little snort. “Original. Honest. Unrefined. I like it.”

Dropping the notebook and his forehead to the counter in front of him, Diego let out a long breath that was like a very quiet scream. “I just don’t know what to write about. I think my life is interesting, I love my mom and she’s phenomenal. But those just don’t seem like things the college board wants to hear about. No one wants to read a ten-page essay on how much I love my mommy.”

“Write about your dad leaving,” Vanya suggested, like it was just casual.

“Not a lot there. Mom was diagnosed, gained some weight. Dad found a pretty, young new playtoy and bounced right out of town. No forwarding address, no way to reach him.” Diego wasn’t bitter. He wasn’t. But it would have been nice if his shitbag dad hadn’t left them absolutely destitute, forcing Grace to rebuild their lives from the ground up in the shittier part of town. 

“There’s actually a lot there. Talk about your mother’s diagnosis, the fear that it brings. Write about your feelings on your dad abandoning you. Because it wasn’t just your mom that he left, Diego.”

Diego rolled his eyes and pushed off from the counter, throwing his notebook onto an empty shelf. “They don’t want a sob story, and I don’t want their sympathy.”

“You know what, Diaz? Nothing is ever good enough for you.” She huffed a breath then muttered, “At least you’re consistent.”

Before Diego had a chance to respond to  _ that _ particular jab, Luther Hargreeves and his idiot lackey were entering the shop.

“So anyways, my aunt and uncle are practically begging me to do it, and I can’t say no because he’s family,” Luther lamented.

“You say no  _ because _ he’s family, dude. Plus he’s a guy and that’s fuckin’ gay.”

“It’s not like I’m going as his date, dumbass. I’m just escorting him to a formal at Umbrella Prep. Appearances are important to Aunt Yunhee, and Ben is way too… Ben to go to one of these things of his own free will.” Luther shrugged then added, “I’m pretty sure Auntie just wants him away from Klaus for a bit. They’re practically attached to each other. It’s disgusting. Plus, my uncle is paying me, so...”

Diego had to pretend he wasn’t listening in when Luther looked up and directly at him. “Hey, Diaz. I want a house classic. But no pickles or onions.”

“Don’t want your breath to stink for Kathy later?” Diego asked, only semi-facetiously, fuck you very much, Vanya.

Luther just gave him the side eye, “I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”

Rather than fight, Diego just ducked his head and set to work making the sandwich. He couldn’t afford to lose this job. 

“Anyways, the timing couldn’t be any shittier. Kathy’s parents are gone all weekend on a business trip, and she invited me over for some one-on-one time.” Luther honest-to-god waggled his eyebrows, and Diego had to wonder why  _ any _ girl found the big idiot hot, let alone most of the females in the student body.

“Yo man, if your cousin was a chick, I’d offer to take ‘em.”

“I’ll take your cousin,” Diego piped up before he’d really thought it through. But once it was out there, he couldn’t take it back. So he just rolled with it. False confidence was a thing he’d perfected early on, growing up with a stutter and an anal retentive dad.

There was a chorus of  _ what’s _ all around and, if it weren’t for the fact that  _ he _ had volunteered so it would look weird, he’d be saying what too.

“I’ll take your cousin to the dance.”

Luther scoffed, swaggering up to the counter like he was the latest big bad in a cheesy nineties thriller. “Oh? You gonna pick him up in your sandwich makin’ uniform? Maybe wear the plastic gloves? Maybe it’s a kinky thing, I don’t know.”

“No,” Diego scoffed, drawing on that false confidence he had perfected. “It’s Umbrella, I’ll dress the part.”

Luther crossed his insanely muscled arms and assumed a vaguely threatening position. “And what’s in it for you?”

“Well, since I’m doing the work, I get the money you mentioned.” Luther made a face, but seemed agreeable to the stipulation. Diego waited a moment to drop the real bomb. “And I get to drive your car.”

Luther’s body came to attention so fast, Diego feared he may have dislocated something. “You are  _ not _ driving my car, man. No way.”

Diego made a face like he was thinking and said, “You’re going to give up a weekend alone with the  _ hottest _ girl in our school, to take your  _ male cousin _ to a dance?” He made sure to pump an extra shot of skepticism into his voice, and he could practically  _ feel _ Vanya’s eye roll from behind him. 

Luther relented, posture deflating. “I hope you own a suit, sandwich boy.” Luther turned to leave but then came back up to the counter and gave Diego all of the info, scribbled on a store napkin. “Don’t be late.”

  
  
The engine was purring beneath him as Diego zipped through the nearly empty streets of Umbrella on his way to pick up Luther’s cousin, Ben. Driving the car was a rush in and of itself, but it wasn’t  _ just _ because it was a fancy car. It mostly because it was  _ Luther’s _ fancy car, and that gave Diego a bone-deep satisfaction like nothing he had ever done in his life. The kind of bone-deep satisfaction that he couldn’t imagine being measured up to by anything other than a Yale acceptance letter. To share in his revelry, Diego called the one person with whom he shared everything.

“What the hell do you want, Diaz?”

“Vans!” he exclaimed when the call connected and his best friend’s voice filtered through. “This is  _ so _ great, oh my god! You cannot  _ believe _ !”

He heard a heavy sigh over the line. “It’s just a car, Diego.”

“It’s not  _ just a car _ , Vanya. It’s  _ Luther Hargreeves’  _ car.  _ Luther Hargreeves’ sports car _ .”

“Your feelings of hate and animosity for Luther Hargreeves are two things I will never understand about you.” The sound of shifting and clicking came from Vanya’s end before he heard, “Speaking of things you do that confound me, why the  _ fuck _ did you agree to this?”

“I need the money, Vans. Money, and a night where I’m not Diego Diaz.”

Vanya made a noise low in her throat. “ _ Mhm _ . And if not Diego Diaz, who are you going to be?”

He hoped she could hear his grin over the phone. “Whoever the fuck he wants me to be.”

“He probably wants you to be dead in a ditch for accepting payment to take him on a date.” Another of her signature heavy sighs. “Whatever, Diaz. Call me when you get home tonight. Let me know you’re safe.”

Although Vanya was clearly pissed at him, he knew he would soon be forgiven. She always checked up on him, that’s just what she did. 

***

Ben was furious about having to go to the school dance while Klaus was forced to stay home. Mom said he wasn’t going because of the weed she found in his room, but everyone knew it was really because she didn’t want Klaus anywhere near a public place with Ben. Given the position they were in, Ben couldn’t really blame her. But it wasn’t like his mom knew about  _ this _ particular relationship quirk. Or that Ben had started it.

Ben was snapped back into the moment when Klaus whined pitifully. Having known Klaus for as long as he had, Ben knew that it was a ‘you aren’t paying attention to me and you really should be’ whine.

“Shhhhh, baby,” Ben soothed, stroking his hand through Klaus’ unruly mop of curls and thrusting shallowly into the wet heat of his mouth. “Mom is right down the hall. Wouldn’t want her hearing how much of a slut you are for your big brother’s cock, would you?”

Klaus whined again, head moving side to side in minute shakes. It ruined the seal of his lips and had spit sliding down his pale chin. Swiping a thumb through the mess, Ben made a disapproving sound low in his throat. 

“Baby boy,” he sighed, pulling Klaus off by his hair. Ben couldn’t help the smirk that made its home on his face before popping his spit and pre-cum soaked thumb into his own mouth. Pulling it from the circle of his lips slowly, he let out a small groan then rubbed the appendage over Klaus’ lips. “You’re so  _ messy _ . If you aren’t careful, you’ll ruin your outfit.” He guided Klaus back onto his cock, feeding it to him with short, sharp thrusts. He definitely wasn’t making it any easier for his little brother to stay clean, but that was sort of the point. He wanted to see Klaus  _ work _ at counteracting his naturally messy nature. “We can’t have everyone knowing what a needy slut you are, Klaus. You’re  _ mine _ .” He punctuated his statement with a deep thrust that had the head of his cock meeting the spongy-soft heat of Klaus’ throat.

Klaus, knelt on the floor at Ben’s feet and pretty red lipstick leaving a print on his big brother’s dick, was the prettiest thing Ben had ever seen. Choked noises poured from his mouth at a rapid rate, followed closely by the spit he just couldn’t seem to keep where it belonged. 

“Such a messy whore,” Ben chastised. A perverse thrill shot up his spine at the way Klaus’ hips pushed into the air at the degradation, seeking an unattainable friction against his own aching erection.

Gentling his voice, dragging a thumb over one sharp cheekbone, Ben asked, “Do you want to get off right now, sweetheart?”

Klaus shook his head so vigorously he nearly dislodged himself from Ben’s dick. Desperately, he scrabbled at Ben’s pants with long pianist’s fingers as if he were trying to keep him from escaping.

“Shh, shh. I’m right here princess, I’m not going anywhere.”

The general consensus of the people around them was that Klaus was the bad influence. They saw him, loud, obnoxious, and willing to flout the rules, and assumed he was the driving force behind Ben’s ‘wayward behavior’. But the truth was, Klaus was about as mischievous as a puppy. Eager as one as well. Klaus had come to Ben, in desperate need of love and a firm hand.  _ Craving _ approval and affection. And Ben, uncaring of how people viewed him for it, gave Klaus exactly what he needed. It was unconventional, and definitely not what others would approve of, but Klaus was really the only thing that mattered to Ben. As long as his princess was happy, he was happy.

Relaxing into the wall, he let Klaus bob wet and messy on his dick until he came. It was a breathtaking sight, watching Klaus swallow repetitively, Adam's apple bobbing. The pale boy was always liberal with his spit, spreading it across Ben’s cheek when he licked him and letting it spill from his mouth while Ben fucked it, but he was careful with Ben’s cum. One time, Ben had asked Klaus about it. They were lying sated and messy in Ben’s bed, the older boy drawing mindless patterns on the pale skin of Klaus’ stomach. The reason, Klaus said, was it made him feel closer to Ben. Made him feel like a good boy. The best. Ben wasn’t going to tell him otherwise, because Klaus was his good boy; his best boy.

They stayed like that for several moments, basking in the afterglow and catching their breath. The sound of Ben’s mother calling his name jolted them into action, Klaus gliding across the room to slip out of the window while Ben did up his pants.

“Benjamin, if you don’t come out, fully dressed in what I gave you, to meet this nice young boy…” She trailed off, lacking a real threat. 

Ben rolled his eyes,  _ hard _ , and exited his room. His mom gave him a once over, and her eyes snapped up sharply when she saw his feet. “Those are  _ not _ the shoes I laid out for you.”

“No mother. They aren’t. And I won’t be wearing them.”

He thought he heard her mutter something about Klaus turning her perfect baby boy into an entitled brat, and barely repressed a scoff. If anyone was an entitled brat in their home, it was Yunhee Reymen, not Klaus or her son.

The duo, mother and son, made their way down the stairs to meet the ‘escort’ his dad hired.

***

Diego’s most charming smile nearly slid off of his face when Ben looked him dead in the eye and asked, “How much are you being pimped out for?”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected Ben to be a bit of a handful. He just hadn’t expected him to be an  _ attractive _ handful. 

Saving him from answering that particularly awkward question, Ben’s mom leaned over to her husband and stage whispered. “He won’t wear the black dress shoes. He insisted on wearing those horrid boots. And he’s terrorizing the nice young man taking him to the dance. That Boy is a terrible influence on my son.”

Truly curious as to who ‘That Boy’ was, Diego was ready to stand on the sides as an argument unfolded in front of him, but Ben was having none of it. 

“Let’s go. The quicker we do this, the quicker we can be  _ not doing this _ .” Then Diego was being pulled out the front door, watching as Ben gave his mom a half-assed and mocking salute.

As soon as they were out the door, Ben let go of his arm like it had burned him. Which, ouch. Diego wasn’t rich, but he wasn’t  _ gross _ . The hit to his ego was compounded by the look of disdain Ben gave him upon seeing Luther’s car.

When Diego attempted to be a gentleman and open the door for Ben, the shorter boy shoved his hand away and opened his own door before sliding in. “I am perfectly capable of opening and closing my own doors, thank you,” he said, then slammed the door in Diego’s face. 

Crossing around to the driver’s side, Diego got in the car and started it up, prepared for a supremely awkward car ride and even worse night. 

They rode in silence for several minutes, the only sounds that of the radio playing quietly in the background and the occasional instruction from Siri.

“In two hundred feet, make a right,” the pleasant, automated voice of his phone informed him. 

Ben pointed a finger in the opposite direction of what the GPS had said. “Oh, no. You’re gonna hang a left up here.”

Diego glanced over at the other boy in the car and quirked an eyebrow. “But the GPS said-”

“Don’t listen to a robot. Listen to me. Hang a left up here.”

Sighing, Diego took the turn. He wasn’t sure why they weren’t listening to the GPS, which hadn’t ever steered him wrong (pun intended), but he figured Ben probably knew a shortcut. He had lived in this neighborhood his entire life after all, while Diego was only in it because he was being paid to do someone else’s dirty work.

Diego was waiting for another instruction when Ben shot up from his sprawl in the passenger seat and practically shouted. “Here! Stop here.”

“This isn’t your school.” It was a dumb response, since it was obviously not a school  _ at all _ , but most of Diego’s brainpower was focused on figuring out what was going on.

Ben just huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh, and began taking off his seatbelt. “No, it isn’t. But wouldn’t it be crazy if it was?”

“Hey, no. I’m supposed to be taking you to the school dance.”

Rolling his eyes, Ben stepped out of the car and leaned down to talk to Diego. “You’re getting paid. You don’t actually want to go with me,  _ I  _ don’t actually want to go with  _ you _ . So you just come back and get me in two hours, and you’ll get your money. Plus free time with my cousin’s car! Guys like you get off on that, right? On looking like hot shit?”

Diego was in the middle of forming a response when Ben was practically attacked by  _ something _ in pink taffeta. The something, turned out to be a person.

“Beeeeeeeen,” the boy in the dress whined. “I’ve been waiting for  _ ages _ .”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Ben rubbed a thumb over the sheer lacing that made up the top half of the pink dress. “You can’t have been here much longer than us, you left the house when Diego got there.”

“Ok, fine, a point has been made. But Benny, consider this, I  _ missed _ you.”

While the two talked, Diego drank them in. Ben in his fitted blue suit and Navy issue combat boots, the other boy in his floor-length mermaid dress and elegant kitten heels. They looked like quite the pair, and he was stunned by the shock of arousal that coursed through him when Ben leaned in to give the pale boy a demanding kiss. It should have looked strange, the pale boy having an obvious height advantage that forced Ben to lean up to kiss him, but it wasn’t. It was obvious who was in charge, and it wasn’t the boy in pink.

Ben pulled away with a smile on his spit-slick, kiss-flushed lips. “Shut up, Klaus.”

Wanting to know exactly  _ what in the hell _ was going on, Diego cleared his throat and spoke up. “Who are you?”

A beaming grin, slightly manic around the edges, and fauna-green eyes were focused on Diego. “I’m Klaus, Ben’s brother.”

And wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments motivate me to produce that good shit, so drop one if you’re feeling kind.


End file.
